Amber
by HorseGalFangirl9
Summary: The Royal family has a secret. She is the key. "This isn't a world where princes save princesses and kings pick their queens. There are no fairies or mice or happy endings. This isn't a fairytale. This is war. And in war people get killed." "Do you think you're going to die?" "Probably."
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys! I'm back! This is my second Selection FanFiction, so all types of criticism are accepted. This story contains multiple OCs and considered AU since the events of the books are very much changed. A shoutout to NewKindofCinderella for approving of this story. Please review, favorite, and follow and leave feedback on how I can make my writing better. Just a warning, one of my OCs has the same last name as Kriss, but they are not related. Feel free to tell me if there are any mistakes or pieces of information I got wrong. There will be many different POVs, so be prepared. Now, let's start the story, shall we?

Chapter 1: The Palace DoorsThe moon's light illuminated the silhouette of the black limousine driving along the Illéan roads, silently, quietly. The tinted windows blocked anyone from seeing in or out of the car, although the darkness did their job for them. The palace loomed ahead, tall and grand in the night, its lights radiating a sense of welcome.

As the limo came to a halt in front of the palace's golden gates, the driver made a signal with his hand and the gates swung open with barely a sound. After a few more minutes of driving the car stopped in the back of the palace, hidden from all those who didn't know of its arrival. The chauffeur got out of the limo and opened the back door, holding out his hand. Another hand took it.

This hand was attached to a girl who gracefully slid out of the limousine, her soft auburn hair billowing out slightly thanks to the night breeze. Her eyes quickly scanned the area, looking for any witnesses. When she was sure there was none, she walked around the car toward the back door. Before she went inside she looked back at the chauffeur. "Thank you," she said. Her voice carried a sweet English accent that made her words sound like silk.

"You're welcome, My Lady," the chauffeur bowed. With a small smile, the girl disappeared into the palace.

"Miss Brittney Ambers, I presume?" came a voice from the shadows. The girl jumped back into a wall, a hand on her rapidly beating heart.

"Who's there?" she exclaimed. A low chuckle was heard as a man stepped into the light. The man wore a blue uniform and a serious yet amused expression. Brittney immediately recognized him as a palace guard.

"I'm sorry if I startled you, Miss," he said, giving a deep bow as he, unperceptively, gave the young woman a once- over. Just in case.

"No, no. It's quite alright." she said, walking towards him. "Does anybody else know of my arrival?" The guard shook his head, going to open a door at the other end of the room.

"Just myself and a few other senior guards, My Lady. The king and queen were aware that you were arriving tonight, but you'll meet him them tomorrow when you meet the Selected girls." Brittney nodded her head in understanding.

She and the guard walked in silence as they made their way through the castle halls. The floor they were currently on had many windows, and each of them let in a reflection of crystallized moonlight. It wasn't much, but it was just enough to allow Brittney to decipher the shadows of paintings on the walls, along with a mirror that scared her more than she'd like to admit when she looked into it. The rays of light provided by the night left patches of white luminescence on the marble floor, and every now and then she spotted a part of what could have been a gold engraving. It became a game; her trying to figure out what was around her by observing the shadows, and the guard trying desperately not to laugh when her eyes and nose scrunched up in concentration.

Finally they reached the end of the corridor, and he led her up a flight of stairs. Her heels clicked and echoed with every step, extraordinarily loud next to the guard's quiet and calculated ones. She looked at him, but he gave no indication of even realizing her presence. After a few seconds of debate she took a deep breath and spoke, "I'm not going to kill you if you speak, you know. I don't know what rumors are going around, but I'm actually quite a social butterfly."

He turned to her then, a questioning look on his face. "There is nothing for me to speak to you about." Brittney's brow creased. She hadn't been expecting such and abrupt and rude response. She quickened her pace to get ahead of him and practically ran up to the next flight of stairs.

"Come now. The guards at my palace always talk to me. Surely the guards here have some semblance of a social life. Am I right?"

He bristled. "There is protocol here, Miss. I follow my king's orders. Nothing more." She stopped on the stairs, silently looking at him as he passed her. Once she was safely behind she allowed her expression to morph into one of thoughtful confusion. This was interesting, to say the least. The rest of their walk proceeded in an awkward silence.

The guard stopped walking as they came to a rather large door on what she believed to be the third floor. One look around determined that all of these rooms were indeed very fancy, and Brittney was immediately confused. "Why-" she began.

"The king and queen wanted you to be as comfortable as possible," the guard explained. "It's hospitable to provide the best services for one's guests." She narrowed her eyes at the condescension in his words. She was trying to be friendly, and this is how he responded? Nice.

He opened the door for her and gestured for her to go inside. He turned on the light behind her, and the now illuminated room was enough to make her eyebrows rise. It was a huge room with a king sized cream bed and gilded light wood furniture. Nothing that she wasn't used to, of course, but still impressing. The light must have alerted the maids of her presence, as they all came out of the adjoining bathroom. They curtsied respectfully and Brittney nodded in recognition.

"Your maids will take it from here. Have a nice night, Miss," The guard said. With that he turned and left.

"What a charmer." Brittney smiled at the older maid's sarcastic notion.

"You're telling me! I tried to talk to him and he acted like I was telling him to kill someone. He said that he had to follow his king's orders or something of the sort." She gave an exasperated look. "I've barely been here twenty minutes and already questions are starting arise."

"I'm sure you can handle it, Maj- I mean, My Lady," the older maid spoke again. "You have a few weeks at the minimum."

"I know, Natasha," The younger girl sighed. "But… I don't know. I really don't."

Seeing her evident stress, one of the younger maids spoke up. "Would you like me to run you a bath, Lady?"

Brittney smiled in appreciation. "That would be lovely Luna, thank you. And after I'm out I do expect you to tell me all about your trip here. Was the jet I sent you in to your liking?"

{} {} {}

Brittney woke up to light streaming through the window. Blinking a few times, she sat up, the covers falling off her body. "Good morning, Miss," Natasha called.

"Good morning girls," Brittney said, stifling a yawn. She stretched a bit, noticing a tightness in her back. Natasha must have seen her discomfort, as she came over and massaged her back, immediately loosening up the knots. "Better?" she asked.

"Much, thank you," Brittney replied. She wrapped herself in a robe and went to sit at her vanity, where her maids quickly got to work on styling her hair. While they worked, Brittney ate the breakfast that had been brought up to her room, savoring it. She hadn't eaten since lunch the day before, and she was starving. Unfortunately, she had to shove half of it down her throat when her maids started on her make up. They didn't even try to cover their laughter. Brittney couldn't help but join them, but then ended up choking.

After about hour and a half she was ready and she couldn't help but smile as she looked at herself in the mirror. Her dress was a dark, forest green, ending just above her ankles. Black lace covered most of the bodice and sneaked onto the front and side of the tulle skirt. Black lace also made up the off-shoulder sleeves. Her shoes were high-heeled, black gem, and open toed, giving her an extra three inches of height. Her make-up consisted of pink and light brown eye shadow and light pink lip-gloss with a little touch of bronzer. Her hair was done up in two French braids on the sides of her head, then meeting at the back of her head where her hair fell down in cascading curls. She looked like a young girl, innocent and lovely and so unlike herself.

"This is amazing girls. I barely recognize myself!" As they smiled at her praise, a knock sounded at the door. Natasha went to open in.

"Lady Brittney." Thankfully, a different guard than the one who had come to get her last night greeted her. She nodded, and discreetly tried to read his nametag. "Officer White." He smiled at that. "I'm here to take you to see the King and the Prince. You will join the Queen and the Selected in the Women's Room afterwards." Brittney looked back at her maids and waved before they closed the door. Swallowing her nerves, she joked, "A Women's Room? I like the sound of that!"

Officer White chuckled as he led her down the hall, coming to a halt in front of a set of ornate doors. "Is this-?" Brittney's question was cut off by the door swinging open and hitting her in the face. "Ow!" she cried, cradling her forehead.

"Oh my God, are you alright?" A voice came from next to her.

"Yes," she said. "I'm fine." She stood upright, wincing and still seeing stars.

"Maria! Can you get an ice pack for the lady?" the voice called.

"No, really I-" Brittney looked up and saw a man that looked about nineteen with honey blond hair and warm brown eyes. She recognized him immediately. "Your Highness," she made to go and curtsy, but he held her upright. "I don't believe you need to curtsy to the man who knocked you in the face with a door. Come, take a seat."

He led her into the room, which she saw was an office. As she took a seat on the chair near a desk, she saw the king make his way into the room. She got up to curtsy, but once again Maxon held her down. "Sit," he commanded. Just then the maid Maria came in with an ice pack and Brittney graciously took it. "What is going on here?" the king demanded.

"This young lady was outside the door when I opened it and hit her in the head," the prince said, his voice wavering slightly. The king massaged his temple. "Who are you, young lady?"

"Brittney Ambers, Your Majesty. I'm the assistant that the European Union sent in to help with the Selected girls." Maxon's eyes widened and the king looked downright appalled. "I apologize, your grace, for my son's clumsiness."

Brittney laughed a bit. "It's alright, Your Majesty. I've been hit harder." The king sent her a tight smile before delving into a conversation about Europe and scheduling a meeting with its king and queen. She couldn't help but smile at that because _what_ a surprise it would be when he found out the truth.

A time later, Officer White reappeared to take Brittney to the Women's Room. This time she was able to strike up a friendly conversation, and she also took the time to look around at the palace. It was, as she'd suspected the night before, beautiful and opulent.

When they reached the Women's Room Brittney nodded a thanks to the guard and made to open the door, hearing the approaching voices too late. She couldn't even turn away before the door opened and collided with her face. "Ah!" she cried out, holding her nose and feeling the blood coating her hand. Officer White immediately came to her side with a handkerchief, and she took it, horrified when it was drenched the next minute. A few more were taken out and she held them, pinching her nose and willing the bleeding to stop.

"Oh my God. Are you okay? I'm so sorry!" a panicked voice came from above her

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. Don't worry about it," Brittney waved off the stranger's apologies.

"Do you need to go to the infirmary?" Officer White asked.

"Uh, no… I'm pretty sure I can handle a bleeding nose." She straightened up and tried to look as dignified as she could while holding tissues to her nose and sounding congested. Her accent really didn't help matters, either.

"What happened here?" came another voice from inside the room. The girl in front of her blanched and turned around slowly, fear filling her words.

"I-I'm sorry Your Majesty! I went to open the door and I hit her in the face. I-" Brittney interrupted the girl's rambling. "Your Majesty, it was an accident, really." Taking the tissues off, she regally wiped her nose, making sure there was no blood before curtsying to the queen. The queen regarded her for a while before realization set over her features and she gave a welcoming smile. "You must be the new coach for the girls. I am very sorry that your first day started like this. Please, come in and take a seat."

Brittney graciously accepted her offer and made her way to a love seat right next to the door. She observed the room, filled with seats and mirrors and distinctly feminine décor. There were 35 chairs in the middle of the room now, though only 27 or so of them were filled. She smiled at the girls, seeing as they were all staring at her uncertainly. She looked over at the queen to see if she was going to introduce her, but the monarch only looked at her expectantly. She turned back to her soon-to-be students.

"Well,um, hello. My name is Brittney and I will be coaching you and giving you your lessons along with Sylvia. I'm, um, sure you've all already met her. She will teach you all the general knowledge you need but I will cater to each of you specifically and give each of you tips as to how to go about doing certain things and accomplishing certain tasks. I will be here until the end of the Selection process but once the One is chosen I will take my leave. I do believe that lessons start in a week-" she cut off to look at the queen and when she saw her smile and nod, she turned back to the girls. "So I will be seeing you all _very _soon."

Some of the girls looked at her weirdly, others with respect. She turned to look at the queen who had a now blank expression on her face. She gave a trained smile, picking up on the newfound tension in the room.

_Well,_she thought to herself. _This should be fun._

**Edited on March 27, 2016**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! I'm updating today because I probably won't be able to update next week thanks to a bunch of plans. But who knows? Any way, this chapter I going to be a bit shorter tan the first, but I promise it will be better. I actually only got 1 review for the last chapter, but I got 69 views. Is it really that hard to write a comment? But thanks to prnamber3909 for your review. It really made me laugh! I promise you this story will NOT have Maxon falling in love with another girl. MAXERICA FOREVER!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own this series**

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 2: Dinner

Brittney had retired to her room after her meeting with the Selected, but was called down for dinner barely an hour later. Her maids had barely had time to touch up her make up before she was escorted down to the dining hall, the guard telling her to walk quickly because she had been called down late. She practically ran through the doors, which resulted in all eyes being trained on her. She was the last one there. _Great._

"You're late," King Clarkson stated, staring at her disapprovingly. "It's quite ironic that the etiquette coach is not quite so refined, wouldn't you agree?" Brittney suppressed the urge to bash his head in and instead curtsied deeply and apologized.

"My apologies Your Majesty," she said. "I was caught up in my paperwork and wasn't aware of the guard at my door." He didn't look impressed. Brittney curtsied again and walked to her seat at the other end of the table, trying to surpress the rapid beating of her heart. As soon as she sat down King Clarkson sent her another glare before blessing their meal and everyone started to eat. Embarrassed, Brittney leaned over to the girl next to her.

"Were you waiting for me?" The girl just shrugged her shoulders. Brittney groaned under her breath. "Perfect. First I get hit in the face with a door _twice_ and then I'm late for dinner and get the king on my case. What a _wonderful _impression I'm making."

The girl looked at her and gave a small knowing smile before turning back to her food. She was rather pretty, with brilliant red hair, fair skin, and a smattering of freckles across her nose. Brittney watched her out of the corner of her eye as she ate, falling back into her habit of observing everyone near her. Suddenly the redhead turned to her.

"Honestly, I don't care that you were late. You seem like the first real person in this castle who isn't trying to give off an image of perfection. You seem _human. _I haven't gotten that impression off anybody yet."

"Not even the prince?" Brittney asked.

The girl scoffed. "Puh-lease. He's probably the fakest of them all. Come on! I mean, no body sits that stiffly."

Brittney glanced over at said prince, who was in deep conversation with his mother. She turned back to her new found friend, "You must be the only one here isn't falling head over heels for him." The redhead shook her head.

"I don't even want to be here." Seeing her confused look she added, "It's complicated."

Brittney looked at the girl, a beautiful smile gracing her lips. "So you don't want to live in a castle with a handsome prince?" The girl stole a glance at Maxon. "Yeah… handsome. Sure."

Brittney bit down on her lip, trying not to laugh. "Well, my dear, you must be the only one here who thinks the way that you do."

"Yes, I am rather special," the red head proclaimed. Not being able to keep it in, Brittney giggled so oddly that the people closest to her turn around to see who was making the sound.

"So, you're Brittney Ambers," came a voice from across the table. Said girl turned her head to see that the speaker was his Majesty Prince Maxon himself.

"Yes, Your Highness," she replied. "We are very grateful that you're here. Sylvia can really use the help. The Prince but his chin on his fist. "But one must wonder if there are any… other reason for you to have come?" The way he said it gave Brittney all she needed to read between the lines. Her face must have been priceless, because the prince laughed and gave her a winning smile. "Just joking, my dear."

In a surprise bout of confidence, she narrowed her eyes at him. "I am _not_ your dear!" Both the redhead and the prince gave a smirk at the comment, leading her to believe that she might not have been the first one to say that line.

"Well, well, I see that you've met America." He gestured to the girl sitting next to her. _America_, she thought._ What a lovely name. _"She's a lovely girl, Your Highness. You're lucky to have her in your competition. All of them are a blessing, in fact." She met the prince's eyes in an even gaze, "Don't take that for granted."

"Is that a threat?" the prince asked, eyes hardening slightly. Brittney only smiled.

"No. It's a warning."

Everybody collectively held their breath. She was pushing her luck big time. For an etiquette instructor she was borderline rude, and even America was starting to question what the hell she was doing. She was still staring at the Prince, the smile still gracing her face. The young man she was opposing dropped her gaze after a few moments and smiled back, to everyone's surprise.

"Noted."

The rest of the dinner went on in silence, save for the occasional chatter between two or three people. Brittney looked up only once, and once she met the King's piercing glare she put her head back down, not in the mood to deal with him at the moment. Suddenly, a guard entered the hall, bowing in front of the royals. "I'm sorry to intrude, Your Majesties, but Lady Brittney needs to come with me. The king is on the phone and wishes to speak to her."

"Very well Officer. Miss Brittney, you are excused," the king said.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Brittney put her utensils down in the shape of an X before gracefully rising from her chair, dropping into a curtsy, and after receiving a nod from the king and queen, walking out the door.

"In here, My Lady," the officer said after escorting her to a smaller office on the same floor as the dining hall.

"Thank you," she smiled at him before .sliding into the room. He smiled back at her shut the door gently. _At least some of them are nice, _she thought as she made her way over to the phone and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Amb- Brittney is that you?" a man with an English accent identical to her own spoke to her. Just at the sound of his voice, a smile made its way across her face.

"Yes, _Your Majesty,_ it's me," she jokingly said.

"Oh, don't start with that. I mean, _Brittney Ambers? _Really? Obvious much?" the voice answered.

"Ugh, well, I just had dinner with them and everything is perfectly fine."

"They don't-"

"No, William. Not a thing."

"So, when do you plan on telling them?" the man named William asked.

Brittney sighed. "Wilhim and Robert are looking through files. They got the jobs successfully and they're saying that it looks promising. I'll tell them when it's confirmed."

"When do you think it will be confirmed?"

"I don't know, William. I honestly have no idea."

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. "Alright. I just hope I'll be able to see you soon."

"You will, I promise." Brittney smiled. "I love you."

"I love you too Abs. Oh, and you forgot your phone in our room. Go see Wilhim. I gave it to him before he left."

"Thanks Will. Talk to you soon."

"Yeah, bye."

"Bye."

She put the phone down, taking in a deep breath. She walked out of the room and flagged down a guard. She was delighted to see that it was Officer White, and she gave him a brilliant smile before asking him to notify the royals that she had to go get some work done right away. He gestured for her to come with him, and she waited outside the doors as he made his way into the dining room. All turned to look at him as he bowed.

"Lady Brittney has gotten an urgent phone call and has work that needs immediate attending to. She sent me to as Your Majesties' permission to leave dinner early, and to apologize for the inconvenience."

The King sent an annoying glance his way, but still said, "Very well. But go tell her that I expect her at breakfast tomorrow morning. _On time._" Brittney face palmed. She was never going to live this down

Unbeknown to her, she was standing at the crack in the door where people could still see her, and the queen had just witnessed her display of frustration. She smiled to herself, shaking her head. That girl was a handful, but she was sent for a reason. She glanced at her husband then, who was still glaring at his plate. For the girls sake she really hoped that she would smarten up soon, or it would not be pretty.

{} {} {}

Brittney softly knocked on the door of the filing room, making sure that no one else heard. "Wilhim? Robert?" she called.

"Over here, Your Grace," a man's voice called. She ran over to where he stood, along with another man in the Illéan uniform. "Well?" she asked. "Have you found anything?"

"We've found a lead, Your Grace. It's been said that most Doctors keep a journal to note down all of the important events that happen that they might need to remember. Now, since something like what you're suggesting obviously wouldn't be in the official records, we think that he might have written something down in the journal " the first man explained. "So if we find it-"

"You will able to know exactly what happened," Brittney cut them off. "I knew I made the right choice when I hired you. You are brilliant, honestly. Thank you." She gave a tired smile.

"I'm going to start searching for the journal, but Robert will still be looking through. The files. There might still be something there. So far we haven't found anything about_ that_, but we did find something." The guard known as Robert took a deep breath, bent down and pulled out a file with a single book inside. "This book is full of history on Illéa's past rulers, and those today. We believe they all wrote entries, along with those close to them or working for them. Some pages seem newer than others." He gave Brittney the book. "We will continue searching Your Grace. We art positive that we will come up with something at the end of the week."

Brittney took a deep breath, studying the cover of the book. It looked very old. "Thank you gentleman. I really do appreciate it." "No problem ma'am. We know you aren't only doing this for yourself. We like to help as many people as we can." Brittney looked at the newer, white pages in the book and laughed a sad laugh. "I'm not quite sure that this counts as helping anyone but, we can hope." She sighed.

"We can hope."

**Woah! What was that? I don't really know either. It'll all be cleared up in a few chapters, I promise. If I get a few reviews I'll definitely update tomorrow, but if not, well, let's just say I'm bust this weekend coming up. I really do hope you enjoyed it, and I just wanted to say that I will try to use your ideas in my story if you leave me suggestions. **

**Oh… I'm also looking for someone to fangirl over The One with… so if you want to be that person PM me or leave me a review and I'll make it happen. ;-****p**

**Until next time,**

**HorseGalFangirl9**

**Edited 28/03/2016**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys!** **I'm sorry for the long wait, but school really got in the way. But now I'm done, and while I'm still going to summer camp I'm going to be able to update a lot more frequently than I have been. I'd also like to let you know that I have slightly modified the two previous chapters, because I found some mistakes.**

**maxamerica love: I tried to add a bit of interaction with America and Brittney, but there will be more in the next chapter. I did, however, add a small scene with Maxon and Brittney. The relationships between Brittney and those that she meets will become more developed as the story goes on.**

**Nonetheless, the second part of this chapter is for you.**

Chapter 3: The Report

It was Friday, and everyone was getting ready for the Report. Brittney sat at her vanity, watching as her maids discussed what to do with her hair and make-up for the night. The royal family had been nice enough to give her the opportunity to be present with them and the Selected on the Report, and she wanted to make a good impression.

Although, this might be less out of the kindness of their hearts and more of an apology. King Clarkson may be a jerk, but he was no idiot. The European Union would be a very powerful ally to have, and the last thing anyone in their right mind would want to do would be to jeopardize that chance.

Brittney sat back in her chair, arching her back slightly and loosening her posture. She didn't have anything to worry about. Especially after this morning.

Flasback/Memory

Brittney walked into the Great Room, wearing a light grey-blue day dress with white kitten heels. She was among the first to arrive, so she took a spot at the end of a table leaving an empty spot beside her for a certain redhead. Sure enough, America walked in a few minutes later with a blonde girl by her side. Her eyes darted around the room before landing on Brittney, and when they did she slowly made her way over, the blonde girl in tow.

"Hello, America," Brittney said, smiling.

"Hi," the redhead smiled back before gesturing to her friend. "Um, this is Marlee."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Marlee. I'm Brittney." She extended a hand. Marlee took it and have it a firm shake.

"I know. Believe me, you're all the girls have been talking about. Well, besides the Prince, obviously."

The auburn-haired girl smirked. "I'm glad to see I'm making an impression. One of the first lessons that a lady learns is to make her character known, after all. Although, I do believe that I may be acting a slight bit… _lively._"

America and Marlee raised their eyebrows. "And you're our etiquette coach because…"

Before she could retaliate the doors opened, and the royal family stepped in. All the girls got up and curtsied, earning an approving look from Silvia.

"You may sit," King Clarkson kissed his wife on the cheek, patted his son on the shoulder, and took his seat. Everybody then started to fill their plates as food was set out on the table.

The three girls proceeded talking while eating, being sure that they could not be heard. "So, what do you think of Prince Maxon?" Marlee asked.

America swallowed before shrugging nonchalantly. "He's okay, I guess. Nicer than I thought."

Brittney smiled slyly. "My, my. How opinions can change. What happened?" America just shook her head.

"Nothing. I… slept. Made me see clearer." Marlee and Brittney shot each other a knowing look.

"What?" The redhead exclaimed. "I don't like him! I just… ugh. Never mind. What about you Brittney?"

"Me?" Said girl sat back in her chair. "I think he's awkward and unsure of himself, but a nice person at heart. He'll be a great ruler once he gets it together."

"Oh, and you know what being a ruler entails?"

All of a sudden, a loud bang was heard from the head table. The prince had slammed his fist down on his plate accidentally, and it went flying across the table and right onto Brittney's face. She gave a slight scream as she felt the gooeyness rom the eggs and oil mix with the pain from the impact, along with what could have been the sting of a broken fragment piercing her skin. Collective gasps were heard across the room as Brittney took the napkin on her lap and used it to wipe away the food and little blood from her face.

Maxon seemed absolutely shocked and distraught. "I apologize profusely, Lady Brittney. I didn't mean to, truly. Are you okay?

"Yes, I'm fine," Brittney replied. "Don't worry, Your Highness. Getting egged is a daily thing for me. And," she leaned in closer as if she was telling a secret, "egg yolk is very good for your skin."

"Brittney, you're bleeding!" Marlee cried. She reached up to touch her face and, sure enough, her hand came back speckled with blood."

"Ah, I should go clean that up. May I ask for your excuse, Your Majesty?" The King nodded quickly at Brittney and she scampered out of the dining room, missing the terrifying glare that the father had sent to his son.

End flashback

Brittney looked fondly at her maids, who were scampering about. They had laughed when she told them her story, and had proceeded to prepare her a shower before she left for lunch. Lunch itself had been a time of jokes about breakfast and how Brittney should keep her distance from Maxon so she wouldn't get hurt. All the girls were very friendly, although Brittney knew that she hadn't gotten to meet eight of them who had been sent home the day before she had arrived.

"I got it!" Natasha called, snapping Brittney out of her stupor. She rushed over to the vanity and started pulling supplies out, and the amount of bobby pins that she placed in front of Brittney made said girl gulp.

Her maids then proceeded to braid her hair in a seemingly complicated way: a French Braid starting in the middle of her head and then twisting to the left, The right side braided normally, and the two braids then tied together in a bun on the bottom left side of her head. It was pretty, but the amount of bobby pins that they used to hold it was unbelievable.

Her makeup, however, was simple. A bit of silver eye shadow covered her lid, along with a thin line of black pencil liner and mascara. Her cheeks were adorned with a bit of powdered bronzer and her lips had a sheen layer of pink lip-gloss on. She loved the look, but didn't have much time to admire it as her maids had pulled her away to fit her in her dress.

Tonight they had chosen an emerald green, floor-length evening gown with off-the-shoulder straps. The top rushed up until the top of her waist, where it flowed out in breezy, light layers of chiffon. Her black kitten heels peeked out from underneath her dress, he small diamonds at the tip matching those on her jewelry. Her necklace consisted of a short silver chain, which held a diamond pendant, one that she's brought from home. Her right wrist was adorned with a silver wrap-around bracelet, while diamonds matching that on her necklace hung from her ears. She looked elegant and, once again, nothing like herself. She smiled to her maids before stepping out of her room.

A guard ushered her down to the room where the Report was taking place. She was ironically seated next to America, who in turn was sitting next to Marlee. Her chair was slightly distanced from theirs though, and it seemed to be a little different. Her chair was lined with velvet, while the Selected's were made of just plain wood.

While they were waiting for the Report to start, Brittney leaned in next to America. "You look lovely," she whispered. And she did. Her dress was a dark blue- almost purple. I was fitted through her hips and fanned out to the floor. Pearls were delicately placed in her hair, and her make-up and jewelry were minimal. It was nice- she wasn't trying to be someone she wasn't.

"Thank you," America whispered back. "You look gorgeous." Brittney looked down at herself.

"My maids are talented."

America smiled. "I know. Mine are too."

Then the anthem started to play. The two girls stopped conversing and sat up straight and faced forward. It was show time.

The king went on for a bit about the new developments in the war with New Asia before he called on Gavril Fadaye. Brittney recognized his name; he was the one who always interviewed the Royal family. She found him rather fun and slightly charming, although she'd never tell anyone. His pin captured the light, sending a shock of light into her eyes. I was interesting- like some sort of star.

Gavril went on and interviewed each one of the remaining Selected, asking them questions about Maxon and what they liked to do at their leisure and their families. When all twenty-seven girls passed, Gavril made an announcement that surprised everybody. "Now, I understand that we have a young woman from Europe that is with us here today?" He looked at the king for certainty. When he got a head nod, he continued. "So, Miss Brittney Ambers, would you come up here?"

After getting shoved off her chair by America, Brittney slowly made her way to Gavril, hand extended. Once they shook hands, she sat down on the stool and crossed her legs, her back straight. "So, Miss Brittney, you have the same family name as a certain Selected girl. Do you happen to be related?" Gavril started. Brittney laughed and shook her head.

"No, Gavril. I assure you we're not related. I would know."

Gavril laughed. "I'm sure you would. Now, tell me your background story. Why are you here?"

She looked incredulous for a split second before answering, albeit slowly and carefully. "Well, I was born in Europe. I was abandoned by my parents right after I was born and put into an orphanage, but I soon got adopted by a family. Then, I believe I was, um, nine when it happened, our house got bombed by rebels. I was the only one to survive since I'd- well- I'd snuck out."

"You snuck out? At nine years old?" Gavril interjected. Brittney nodded sheepishly. He raised his eyebrows. "Alright then. Please continue."

Brittney laughed nervously. "I'm not a bad person I swear! It's just- that's what orphans do. They run. And I ran, and I'm alive because of it. So, I mean, it's not all bad.

"But anyway, after that I had no one and I refused to go back into the system, so I lived on the streets. I found this guitar shop run my this really nice man and he kind of took me in, I guess. Taught me to play. To sing. And one day while I was practicing- I was eleven then, the Prince of the Union walks in and hears me. He took me back to the castle the next day and I've been there ever since."

Gavril and the audience clapped appreciatively before he commented. "That's a moving story, really. Good on you for making it this far."

She laughed. "Thank you."

"And you're the etiquette instructor, correct?"

Brittney crossed her legs again. "Yes. I'm here to help Sylvia and integrate a bit of European culture into Illéa. There may be a potential alliance so I'm really just here to be a judge for that."

Gavril nodded, making an amused face. "Well then, I guess I'll just leave it there. I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot more of you."

"I do hope so," Brittney said, shaking his hand.

_I don't hope so. I_ know_ so. _

{} {} {}

It was late at night when Brittney heard the knock at her door. Having sent her maids away for the night, she grabbed her robe and opened the door, surprised to see Maxon standing there. "Your Highness," she curtsied. Maxon looked uncomfortable.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course," Brittney stepped aside, allowing him entry.

When he got in he just stood there in the middle of the room, looking a rather awkward. "Do you need something, Your Majesty?" Brittney asked, trying to break the silence. Maxon looked at her and blurted out, "I'm sorry."

"Excuse me?" Brittney was taken aback.

"I said I'm sorry," Maxon clarified. "I'm sorry that you had to go through that. You know, your past. I have no idea how it would feel, but…" He looked at her curiously. "I know that you didn't say everything. You kept some parts out." Seeing her shocked face, he added. "I know because I do it too. I tend to look uncertain and hesitate at certain parts. You did the same.

"I don't know what you went through, and I know that it was hard." Maxon continued. Brittney scoffed. "You're right. You don't even know the half of it."

She stared as Maxon came closer. "You know, you intrigue me, Brittney Ambers," he said.

"Do I?" said girl raised an eyebrow. "Yes," Maxon sat on the bed. "The people with something to hide are usually the most interesting, I find. And people who deal with royalty and have something to hide, well, then that's just dangerous."

The young girl pulled back her shoulders. "Is that a threat?"

"No," he said. "It's a warning.

Hearing her own words being used against her made Brittney smile slightly before she walked over to her door and held it open.

"Well, I do appreciate that warning, But I assure you, I'm no danger, If anything I'll keep it away." _Lie._

Maxon took the hint and saw himself out, but not before turning back and looking at her. He took in her face, the way she was standing, her aura of, well, he wasn't sure what. "Where have I seen you before?" he asked.

Brittney smiled. "You haven't, Your Highness. I'm sorry."

_Not a lie. Not in the slightest. Well, unless you watch TV. _

**He he he!**

**I'm mean, aren't I? Don't worry, I'll update as soon as I can. I will, however, give out sneak peaks of chapter 4 to my first 5 reviewers, and if they don't have an account I will make a chapter based on their ideas. Please don't forget to review, so I can reach my goal. Favorite and Follow while you're at it.**

**Until next time,**

**HorseGalFangirl9**

**Edited 22/04/16**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! This is a rather speedy update, at least for me. There were actually a few errors in the past few chapters but for some reason my computer won't let me upload the replacement chapter to fix them. I apologize!**

**I got 2 reviews for my last chapter, and they both made me smile**!

**Kiren: Thank you! As for the miscarriage thing… you'll just have to wait and see. (A very intelligent guess though.)**

**maxamerica love: You're welcome. I used your idea because it was really good, I really liked it, and I thought it would benefit the story. Your ideas make this story more interesting, so keep them coming. I also tried to put a bit of America- Brittney action in this chapter. Oh, and thank you for the wonderful compliments! They really made my day!**

**P.S. Could you give me ideas for my other Selection fic, A Little Surprise (and other one-shots)? I'm having a bit of a writer's block and I think you could really help me!**

**Thank you, both of you for the amazing reviews. I think you should get an account so I can PM you sneak peeks and stuff!**

**Well, now that that's out of the way, let's get on with the story!**

Chapter 4: Long live the Queen

It was the day after the Report, and all the girls were gathered in the Women's room. Brittney sat alone in the far corner of the room, near the window, writing in a small book. After getting a bunch of pitying looks thrown her way that morning, she made sure to distance herself from everyone. She didn't want their pity.

_I wonder what would happen if they knew the truth,_ she wondered as she looked out the window at the beautiful gardens. She'd have loved to go outside and write there, but she needed approval from the prince, and after what happened last night… She shook her head. Going outside to be alone would look suspicious, and she absolutely could not do anything that might lead him onto her. If anyone found out before she was ready… well, let's just say it wouldn't end well for her.

Brittney closed her journal with a sigh, too distracted to write anymore. She leant her head back to rest against the window and closed her eyes, allowing herself a moment of peace. After being so tense and stressed the past few days, it felt good to just relax. It was actually kind of mandatory for her, seeing as how too much stress and tension could result in another… episode so to say. Her condition would only worsen.

Unknowingly, she must have drifted off to sleep because she was awoken by the piercing shriek of an alarm. The haziness of sleep leaving her immediately, she shot up and ran to the door, opening it so all of the Selected could run out. After assuring that the twenty-six girls were out at being escorted by guards (a young girl had been eliminated earlier for slapping another competitor), Brittney shut the door and ran after the girls.

She tried to memorize the path they took so that she would know where to go when the next rebel attack took place. Her efforts were made in vain, though, seeing as there were so many people in front of her and so many detours that were taken. She had absolutely no idea where they were going.

After a few minutes of this disorienting march to safety, hidden doors were finally opened and they were all ushered inside. The royal family was already inside, Maxon looking quite relieved when they all made their way in. Some of the girls were crying, others shaking or huddling in the corner. Brittney however, was calm and collected, having been through attacks a lot more dangerous than this in the past four years. She went around, trying to comfort the distressed girls with calming words. She even told one hysterical girl, Fiona, she distinctly remembered her name, a ridiculous story about how she got trapped on the roof of Europe's palace and how they had to send a helicopter with an entire hoard of guards to get her down. Fiona's sobs had turned into laughter, and Brittney took that as a good sign.

She continued to tell embarrassing stories about herself to the girls, and soon enough, with her and Maxon's efforts combined, all of the girls had stopped sobbing and were now sleeping or shaking slightly. Brittney noticed that America was in a corner of the room with her maids. She shook her head, a small smile playing across her face. That girl really was different from the rest of the girls here.

Rather abruptly, the silence was broken by the sound of a little musical number, making everybody jump. Brittney face palmed before taking out her phone and answering the call. She turned her back to the room and went into the one corner that was not being used by terrified Selected. "Hello?" "Amb- Brittney!" came a male voice from the other end. Brittney recognized it immediately, and rolled her eyes at his ridiculous timing. "Yes, William." She looked around the room at all the eyes trained on her, and hastily whispered. "Look, this really isn't a good time. We're under attack. I'm currently in the Royal safe room with about thirty other people." "Wait…" William paused. "You brought your phone with you into a safe room?" Brittney rolled her eyes again. "It was in my handbag, which I had with me when the alarms sounded. I didn't even realize I brought it with me. Now, what is it you called for?" "Oh, right. I was just warning you that there's going to be a package sent to you later today. You're probably not going to like it." William said, just a bit rushed. "What do you-" Brittney was cut off. "Look, I have to go. Please, when you call me don't break my eardrums. Love you, bye!" The line went dead.

Brittney hung up, now confused. _What was that?_ She looked around the room once more,, noticing that it had gone deadly quiet. She smiled sheepishly. "It was the king. He just wanted to see how I was doing." "Oh, really? You seem to be on relatively friendly terms." The king fixed her with a pointed look that almost made her cower back. "Ah, well, you might say that we've grown rather close." Brittney hoped that she wasn't coming across as nervous as she felt. The king seemed to observe her for a while before finally saying, "Yes, I can see why."

Before Brittney could say anything, a guard burst through the door. "Ladies and gentlemen, the rebels have been subdued. However, we ask that you return to your rooms via the back staircase, seeing that there is a big mess and scores of injured guards. Thank you." With that, everyone filed out of the room and made their way up the said staircase. As she looked around, Brittney realized that they weren't kidding when they said it was a big mess. Chandeliers lay broken on the floor next to shredded paintings and cracked walls. Injured guards lay on cots along the walls, some moaning with pain. But then again, this was nothing compared to what she's been through.

Once she made it to the third floor, Brittney looked around. It didn't seem as damaged as the others, but she still had to watch her step to make sure that's he didn't get her feet impaled with broken glass. She finally made it to the doors of her room. There were patches on them that seemed to be stained red, and the possibilities of what they could be made her stomach churn. Taking a deep breath, she opened the doors. One look around showed that nothing had been put out of place. Her heart stopped palpitating and slowly went back to normal. Her breathing slowed. Then she made her way into the bathroom.

It was covered in red. The mirrors, the bath, the shower. Al the supplies in the cupboards had been thrown about, leaving trails of hair product and moisturizer everywhere. But that wasn't the scariest part. On the wall above the bath was a knife, planted in the wall. Underneath it was a message written it what could only be blood: _Long live the Queen. _It was signed with the sigh of the Southern Rebels, an eight-point-star crossed with a knife.

A strangled cry escaped her lips as she ran from the room and into the hallway. Hearing her cry, a guard came rushing at her. "Miss, are you alright?" It was all that she could do to point to her room. The guard made his way inside, and paled once he saw the message. He talked into a radio. "I need a clean-up job in Lady Brittney's room. Assign her a new one for the time being. Alert the king."

It was at this time that her maids came running in. Seeing the guards pale face, her own panicked one, then seeing the message in the bathroom, they immediately went into panic mode. "Oh my God! What? Who? How?" Natalie couldn't even form coherent sentences.

Brittney just shook her head. She instinctively took out her phone and dialed the-all-too familiar number. He picked up on the first ring. "Calling so soon?" he said in a joking voice. If only he knew this was anything but a joke. "William…" she trailed off in a broken whisper. Hearing the sound of her voice, William immediately became worried. "Abs? What happened?" "The rebels. The Southern rebels, the murderers. They painted my bathroom with blood. Left a message too, along with a knife. _Long live the Queen._" She choked back a sob. "William, I'm scared. What do I do?" "Tell Wilhim and Robert to hurry it up. They're close, from what I've heard at least. Tell them immediately after they find it. The Queen part, I mean. We'll be able to set up the force fields and the barriers right after. Then, if your parentage is proven, you can tell them while the construction is going on.

"I'll call the guys now, tell them what happened. If the Illéan rebels are catching on…"

Brittney gulped. "Yes, okay. Do that." "I love you, Abs. Don't forget that. You're strong. You can do this." William encouraged. Despite everything, Brittney felt a smile spread across her face. "Love you, too. I'll speak to you soon." Then she hung up.

Moments later, the king came walking in, surrounded by guards. "What is the meaning of this?" The guard from earlier stepped out of the way, giving King Clarkson a view of the bathroom. He whirled on Brittney. "Do you know anything about this?" "No, Your Majesty, I don't. They might that it's the queen of Europe that's staying here, she is away on a trip. That's really the only thing I can think of," she tearfully admitted. _Only a few more days,_ she told herself. _Stay strong. _

"Clarkson, what's going on?" Queen Amberly came into the room. "I heard something about a threat and-" she stopped speaking as soon as she saw the bathroom. She gasped as her hand flew to her mouth, staring at Brittney in horror. She might have started to say something else, but it didn't matter. Feeling the tears coming, Brittney flew out of the room, rushing down the staircase and onto the second floor, where she collided headfirst with someone. "Ow! Watch it- oh, Brittney sorry, I-" seeing Brittney's tearstained face, America stopped talking. She pulled Brittney with her to her room, where she sat her down on her bed. She asked her her maids to leave, and told the guard on duty in front of her door to go a little further, out of earshot. Then she turned on Brittney.

"My God, what happened?" Brittney just shook her head. America sat down next to her and squeezed her hand. "Come on, you can tell me," she urged. "The rebels painted a message in blood. In my room. _Long live the Queen. _It's a death threat, when it's said like that it's a death threat." America looked at her funny. "How would you know that? That when it's phrased like that it's a threat?" "Standard training, America. You have to know that, at least in Europe," Brittney whispered, suddenly feeling drained. America shook her head. "I don't believe you. You seem way too flustered. Why would you care about a death threat to the Queen?" Brittney looked at her, incredulous. "The queen of Europe is very important. The continent could crumble without her part of the rule. But then again, isn't there a queen here? Do you think they could have mistaken the room?"

America's eyes widened in understanding. "You mean Queen Amberly? Gee, I don't know. I think they would go after the king first. And plus, it's pretty evident which door is the door to the Royal Chambers. They're huge!" Suddenly, her eyebrows shot up. "It's you isn't it? You're the queen of Europe!" Brittney scoffed. "America, you're getting ahead of yourself." "No, no I'm not! I mean, really. You're regal, talk to the king of Europe like you see him everyday, not to mention that you fit her description. Tall, fair skin, green-brown eyes. Your hair is auburn, but you could have changed it with die!" "That's enough, America!" Brittney screamed. Calming down a bit, she added "Don't mention this to anyone. Not the message, not the theory about me being queen. The safety of Illéa and Europe count on it. That is, until I reveal it myself." America gaped at her, unbelieving. "You mean-" Brittney shrugged. "You're a smart one, Miss America Singer. I'll give you that." Then she turned and walked out the door.

{} {} {}

Brittney was situated in her new room. It was on the far right side of the third floor, far away from her old one. She was sitting at the desk, filling out some paperwork that had come earlier that day. God, she HATED paperwork! To make it worse, it was a report about an attack on a nearby supplier to the European palace.

She sighed as she put down the pen, stretching out her wrist. She then leaned back on her chair, closing her eyes as she had done that morning in the Women's room. It's amazing how everything can change in a few seconds. She sighed again as she got up, going over to her vanity to pull her hair into a ponytail, when her door burst open. Whirling around, she saw Wilhim and Robert standing at her doorway, a thick file in hand. Her eyes widened "Is that-" "Yes," Robert said, grinning like a fool. He handed her the files, which she leafed through carefully. Birth certificates, journal entries and notes from the doctor, ultrasound photos. It was all there, all the proof they needed.

"A miracle child, you are," Robert said. "You better believe it," Wilhim agreed. Brittney grinned, a smile that threatened to split her face in half.

"I wonder how Maxon will react to having a sister!"

{} {} {}

**Mwahahahahaha! I am evil! I know, I know. I'll update as soon as I get 10 reviews. So… ya. The faster you review, the faster the chapter gets posted. PM me or review if you have any questions.**

**Until next time,**

**HorseGalFangirl9**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! Sorry about the long wait. Honestly, I got a bit lazy. Reading Hush! Hush! By Michel Noel really takes away your life ambition. Anyway, thank you SO MUCH for the wonderful reviews. We reached 11 in 2 days! You guys are amazing! Thank you so much!** Chapter 5: Undercover

Brittney was awake long before the sun came up the next morning. How could she sleep when she kept seeing images of blood-spattered walls and the death threat that the rebels had left for her? It scared her, more than anything ever had. The Illéan rebels knew. They knew that she was the queen, even though no one else knew. Heck, not even their _king_ knew! That meant that they could have only gotten this information from one other source, and that scared her more than her certain death did. If the European rebels had allied with the Illéan murderers… well, she had to tell King Clarkson quick or Illéa might be reduced to ashes before they could even think of fighting back.

_That won't happen_, Brittney told herself firmly. _I'm telling him today anyway, and if he accepts our preposition everything will be just fine. _She sighed as she looked over at her desk, seeing the mountain of paperwork that she had prepared for the agreement. It was certainly risky, what with all the procedures that the country would have to go through, but it was Illéa's only hope. Even if they didn't want to ally with Europe, her parentage would come out at one point or another, and the rebels would surely attack Illéa, in hopes that she would give up and surrender. And God knows, to protect her family, she would.

Family. The word was so foreign on her tongue; it seemed surreal that she could use it freely now. She had spent thew first eleven years of her life underground in a secret compound, her "parents" only wanting her to be a new recruit for the rebels, to be one step closer to getting rid of the monarchy. Then she struggled for three years on the streets, sometimes going into bars and clubs to sing… among other things in order to get money. Then she was taken in by Europe's prince, who had a father who beat her and used her as his entertainment. Even when they were gone, lost at sea, and she rose to power, she never really had a family to call her own. William was her husband and the love of her life, but she could never say that she had a core family until now.

Realizing that she wouldn't get anymore sleep, Brittney rolled out of bed and went over to her desk, opening the drawers and digging to the bottom until she grasped the thick file that Wilhim and Robert had given to her last night. She hadn`t looked at it in detail; she`d only skimmed through it to make sure that everything she needed was there. Now, seeing as she had at least two hours to kill, she decided that it was time to really look at all the documents that represented her past. The majority of the file contained ultrasound photos, depicting her growth as an embryo to a fetus and so on. There were also doctor's notes about her progression, how her mother was doing, and this weird one that said something about grave complications from an unknown source. She would have to look into that later. Then she came across her birth certificate. It was printed on thick paper, the border decorated with a fancy gold design. In the middle, printed on a fine line, was her name: "Amber Brittney Shreave."

She smiled as she looked underneath it, seeing the line that sported her birthday: "December 20, 2025 at 2:03pm." It was funny how her actual birthday was so close to the one she had been told all her life: December 23, 2025. It made a big difference though. She was a Sagittarius, not a Capricorn. For some reason, that made her feel a lot better. She had never really thought that the Capricorn definition fit her. It would seem like a small, insignificant thing, but Brittney was the type of person who tends to notice the small details that don`t look right_. It`s probably a queen thing_, she thought as she closed the file. _Being a perfectionist and all. _

She put the file back into the drawer, closing it with a thump. With the momentary distraction gone, the panic about how people were going to react today when she told them the news settled in again, and memories of blood and the message flashed through her mind. She shook her head, took a deep breath, and rang for her maids. It was 6:00, so they were no doubt already up and working. Today was going to take a lot of preparation, and she needed all the time she could get.

Sure enough, Natalie, Natasha, and Nicole came rushing in a few minutes later, slightly out of breath. "You called, Miss?" Nicole gushed, leaning against the door frame. Brittney visibly gulped, her throat suddenly feeling very dry. "Um… yes. I-I need your help with something. But you can't freak out. Please," she croaked. Her maids were visibly shocked, but they simply nodded and bowed reverently. Brittney sighed in relief, knowing that she could trust them. She reached under her bed, grabbing a green bag. She took two bottles out and handed them to Natalie. "Hair color remover and a stain remover?" she asked, perplexed. "Why? Do you have dye in your hair?" "Yes," Brittney hurriedly answered. "And I need it to come out. Quickly." "Right away, Miss." Natalie grabbed her hand and led her to the bathroom where she prepared the sink and towels, completely oblivious to the panic attack that Britney was having.

"It's ready, Miss. Just sit down on the chair and tilt your head back," Natasha said, putting on plastic gloves. Brittney complied, willing her breathing to return to normal. She felt three pairs of hands find their way into her hair, rubbing her scalp and head with the remover that she had given them. It felt really good, and she felt herself relaxing ever so slightly. Of course, her little moment of peace was disrupted by Natalie's screech. "You're blond?" Nicole and Natasha shushed her, shaking their heads, though they were clearly just as shocked as she was. "Yes, I'm blond. Now please, continue. I need all the dye washed out in time to be ready for breakfast." Brittney hissed.

Half-an-hour later, Brittney was wrapped in a robe, her hair being dried off by one of her maids while the other two struggled to find the right make-up palette to go with her new hair color and wardrobe. They had found a pink day dress in the back of her closet, but she refused, having brought her own outfit for this day. They still hadn't figured out who she was, but she could see Natasha's face contort in confusion as her hair became dryer, and the type of blonde that she was became more evident. A honey-colored blond with a few platinum streaks here and there. Her eyes were becoming more vibrant, her hair making them seem brighter. Without the make-up that she usually had on she wasn't very recognizable, but some features that had been hidden until now were starting to show, like her defined cheekbones that had been hidden by the blush and the pointed end of her eyes that were usually softened by the eyeliner.

Soon enough her hair was completely dry, and her maids were helping her into her dress. It was a strapless royal blue day dress with a black sash and fitted just underneath her chest. Black lace covered the dress from the waist down, complete with a bow on the right side of the sash. Blue and black bracelets adorned her left wrist and a blue diamond hung on a short black chain around her neck. She wore four-inch blue kitten heels with a small black bow on each one. She had done her own make-up, earning disapproving glares from her maids. She had put on some foundation, some bronzer on her cheeks, making her high cheek bones seem more prominent. Her eyes were sporting a neutral eye-shadow, with some black liquid liner applied on her lop lid and flicked out like a tail, showing a more severe side.

When she finally stepped away from the vanity and turned to her maids, she saw recognition flash across their faces. They immediately dropped into a bow. "Your Majesty. We give our sincerest apologies for not recognizing you sooner," Nicole said, flustered. "Now, now, none of that. I didn't want to be recognized, anyway. That's your goal when you go undercover." She chuckled at their shocked expressions. Then she turned and pulled out one last thing from her bag. She showed the auburn wig to her maids. "I need you to put this on me. It's already styled the way I want it to be. I just need it secured on my head. Her maids nodded hurriedly and quickly fit the wig on her head. Looking in the mirror, Brittney seemed to be satisfied with her appearance. She hugged her maids. "Thank you girls! Now, could you please tell the king that I am ill and that I won't be attending breakfast?" They all nodded and scurried out, but not before bowing. Brittney shook her head at their antics and scurried out of her room.

She saw that the guard posted at her door was none other than Officer White, the guard she had met her first day at the palace. "Excuse me, Officer!" she called. "Hello, Miss Brittney," he replied. "How are you?" "I am well, thank you for asking." She looked around the hall, and seeing no one else, went on to say: "Do you happen to know if the king is in any meetings after breakfast?" "No, I don't believe he is. Why?" Brittney stumbled on her words. "Well, I need to see him. And the queen too, if possible." Officer White shook his head. "I'm sorry, Miss. You are not authorized to speak to the king or queen unless given an official invitation." Brittney huffed, her patience running thin. "It's about the threat that the rebels left during their last attack. I think I know why they wrote it in my room, but I need to speak to the royal family about it." The officer looked at her for a minute, before slowly saying, "I'll see what I can do. Good day, Miss." He took off down the hall.

Brittney ran to her room and took out her phone. She hurriedly dialed her husband's number, but received voice mail instead. "Hey, honey. I'm getting a meeting with the king today, and I plan to tell him that I'm queen. I'll try to get him to accept our preposition, if I can. I also got the official papers that confirm my being a Shreave yesterday. I don't know when I'm going to tell them. I need your help." She took a deep breath. "If all goes well I'll see you in a few days. Call me back soon. I love you. Bye."

She had just slipped her phone into her blue clutch when the rebel alarms went off again. Brittney took off, running into a guard on the staircase. He grabbed her arm and led her through a bunch of hallways, the sound of guns firing echoing around the palace. Suddenly, the guard fell down, a puddle of blood blossoming from his head. Brittney fell down too, grabbing the gun that the fallen guard had dropped. She spun around and shot the rebel, making him fall down to the floor, dead. She got up and ran down the hallway, seeing Kriss and her guard pass her. Not knowing what else to do, she ran up and followed them.

She instinctively ducked when she heard the sound of a bullet whizzing past her. "Duck!" she yelled. Kriss complied, but the guard wasn't so lucky. He took the bullet in the back and fell down. Brittney turned and fired blindly behind her, pulling Kriss behind a wall. Once the coast was clear, they both sprinted to the royal safe room, which was just down the hall. Brittney fired at three more rebels before prying open the door and ushering Kriss inside. "Go go go!"

Once the safe room door was safely closed behind them, Kriss rushed down to meet Maxon. To say he looked relieved would be an understatement. Brittney slowly made her own way down the stairs, feeling a pain in her leg. She looked down to see a long scratch down her shin, bleeding profusely. Gritting her teeth, she sat down next to the stairs, unable to move anymore. It was America who first noticed her. "Amb-Brittney! What happened?" All eyes turned to her as she waved off America's concern. Maxon would have none of it. "Brittney, you're hurt!" He went over to the corner of the room and came back with a first aid kit. He starting cleaning up the wound, making her hiss in pain. He sent her an apologetic look as he continued to bandage it.

Suddenly, a movement near the king and queen caught Brittney's eye. A guard was pointing a gun at the queen's head. Feeling a rush of protectiveness, she screamed. "Queen Amberly, get down!" Maybe it was the panic in her voice or the force in her words, but the queen threw herself off her seat just as the gun went off. Grabbing gun next to her, Brittney shot the rebel in the hand. He let out a scream of pain and blindly as she jumped on him and knocked him out using the butt of her gun.

She turned around to the queen, who was getting helped up off the floor by Maxon and his father, looking shell-shocked. Brittney shakily got up and went over to the royal family. "Are you okay, Your Majesty?" she asked. The queen nodded her head. Then Maxon spoke up. "Uh… Brittney? Your arm!" Said girl looked at her arm, and saw it bleeding through a giant gash on her shoulder. She simply put a hand over it and shook her head.

The rebel was tied up and everyone slowly calmed down. Brittney was bandaged and put on a cot, where she was soon visited by the king. "Thank you, for saving my wife," he said. "It was nothing, Your Majesty." Brittney croaked. The king sighed. "I was told that you wanted to speak to my wife and I privately, am I correct?" Brittney nodded. "To say thank you for your act of bravery, I'll see you late tonight. I usually don't allow this, so you are very lucky. Miss Brittney." "Thank you, Your Majesty!" Brittney said. The king nodded and walked away. Brittney smiled. They had a date.

**Yay! No cliffie! I'll update when I get 15 reviews. Is that possible? I think so. I'll update earlier if someone gets this question right: How old am I? Good luck! **

**Until next time,**

**HorseGalFangirl9**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys! I'm sorry that it's taken me this long to update, but I couldn't write since I had many, many ideas in my head and had to get them organized to write comprehensible chapters. I'm back now, and I'm happy to say that I reached my goal of 15 reviews. You guys are the best! **

**going for the win (2): Thank you! I try! :-p**

**Dondon33: Thank you!**

**Kiren: Interesting guess…**

Chapter 6: The Queen

The attack went on for hours. It was probably the longest attack that the palace had ever witnessed, and also the most brutal. The screams of the wounded made their way through the safe room's doors, and it didn't only happen once that they heard the sound of a body hitting the near walls. Fortunately, all of the Selected had fallen asleep and were spared from this horrible feat. But Brittney and the royals were very much awake.

Maxon and his father were talking hurriedly, both looking extremely worried. The queen was gathered with them as well, including herself in the conversation every now and then. Brittney couldn't hear much from her place on the cot, but little pieces of the conversation would make their way to her ears every now and then. "…brutal and dangerous… never killed like this before… rebel got in… murder…" Brittney fought the urge to tell them everything, but she knew that she couldn't, not with the chance that one of the Selected could be faking sleep. She would just have to wait a little longer.

Sighing, she rolled over. There wasn't much else to do but wait. She relaxed her muscles, one by one, until she was no longer stiff as a board. God knows how much longer they'd be down here, and she would have to be comfortable if she wanted to get any rest at all. She closed her eyes, and was surprised to find how fast sleep came to her. However she did catch one more snippet of the royals' conversation before she drifted off. "… ever since that wretched European student came along. I don't like her."

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Brittney was woken up by someone shaking her shoulder. "Brittney. Brittney!" She groggily opened her eyes to find them staring into almost identical warm brown ones. "Brittney, the king is calling you," Maxon softly said, handing her her phone. It was vibrating, William's contact photo lit up on her screen. "Oh, thank you!" she said as she took the phone from Maxon. She smiled at him before turning her back and pressing the "answer" button.

"William! Why are you calling me?" she whispered. "This is a rather bad time!" "Amber, listen to me. Do you remember that group of European rebels that disappeared six months ago?" William sounded panicked. Brittney's throat closed, already having an idea of what he was going to say. "Yes…" "We were able to track them down. Amber, they went to Illéa. We think that they joined the Southern Rebels." Brittney gave a nervous laugh. "Yeah… I kind of figured that out. You know death threats and all that. And the attack that's been going on for four hours." She sighed. "I'm telling them today, and hopefully they'll accept the preposition and we'll start construction A.S.A.P." "Okay. Just be-" he was cut off by the door of the safe room blasting open. "Ahh!" Brittney screamed and hung up the phone, ducking behind the cot.

Everybody woke up, screaming when they saw the hoard of rebels at the door. The leader smiled cruelly. "Hello, everyone." He laughed when he saw the crowd in the back of the room. "Oh, don't worry. I won't hurt any of you. We just want the queen." Instinctively, everyone crowded around Queen Amberly, forming a protective shell. The rebel leader laughed again. "No, no. Not that queen. Queen Amber, Europe's queen."

"What do you want with the queen?" Brittney cried, coming out from her hiding place behind the cot. The rebel's eyes widened as he took in the sight of the English student. "My, my. What do we have here?" He took a step forward, but the two guards, who had finally come out of their state of shock, aimed their guns at him. In turn, all of the rebels pointed their weapons at various members of the Selected and royal family, along with at least three guns trained on Brittney. Another rebel took a step forward, his gun pointed straight at the said girl's heart. "Make one move, and she dies. I highly doubt that the king will be pleased when he finds out that his wife was killed thanks to the stupidity of Illéa's guards."

"I'm not his wife," Brittney said dangerously. "I don't know where you got _that_ idea. I am, however, one of his advisors and close friends with both him and the queen. Who, by the way, is on a trip to Italy. I don't get why you think she-" Her eyes widened as she covered her mouth with both hands, realising what she had said. The rebel leader's eyes flashed dangerously, and in an instant he was standing right in front of her, knife to her throat. "Don't mess with me, pretty girl. Our commander told us that the queen was going to Illéa, and the commander is never wrong. WHERE IS SHE?" he bellowed, digging the knife in deeper. Brittney's breathing became wheezes as her airway was slowly constricted, black spots dancing behind her eyelids. "I'm not telling you." She managed to breathe out.

She swore the rebel was about to kill her when a huge sonic blast was heard from above them. Startled, the rebel jumped away, letting Brittney fall to the floor, gasping. Seeing an opportunity, she grabbed the knife from the sheath under her dress and held it behind her back, shakily standing up. If that was what she thought it was, bullets were sure to go flying. She hopped in front of the royal family, the knife hidden in the ribbon on her dress. Sure enough, the rebel had just realised that she was gone when he was shot down by a bullet. A huge wave of European guards was running into the safe room, guns drawn and ready to fire. Brittney practically cried with relief. But the feeling was short lived.

Realising what was happening, the rebels were now shooting at the back of the room. Girls screamed as bullets came flying at them, kneeling down on the floor or lying down. A bullet went flying straight for the king, but Brittney was able to deflect it with the blade of her knife, the contact leaving a vibration down her arm. Another shot was fired, this time at the prince, and she threw her knife in the middle of the bullet's path, sending it straight back to the shooter. The sound of a body hitting the floor told her that it had found its mark.

Leaping down and picking up her knife, Brittney was just able to deflect an attack from the rebel that had tried to suffocate her. His shoulder was still bleeding badly from the bullet wound that he had gotten, but his teeth were gritted through the pain as he tried desperately to finish what he had started. The knife's blade glistened sickeningly in the dim lights, coming down to meet its target. The move was deflected with Brittney's own knife, now once again in her hand. The rebel snarled as he lunged at her, only getting even more furious when she sidestepped him. Seeing a window of opportunity, the young girl swung the knife in a deadly arc, effectively severing the rebel's arm. He howled in pain as Brittney knocked the hilt of her knife onto his temple, effectively cutting off his cries and rendering him unconscious.

She barely had time to duck before a bullet came breezing over her head, ruffling her hair. She whirled around to face her attacker, deflecting his next bullet withy the flat of her blade. It bounced toward him, but he dove and shot again blindly. It only because she dived to the side that the bullet missed her chest.

The rebel came charging at her again while she was on the floor. Kicking up her legs, Brittney knocked the gun out of his hands. Jumping up, she caught it and shot him, not looking to see where the bullet had met its mark. "Robert!" She called, seeing his towering physique in the mob of guards. He looked relieved as he ran over to her, shielding her with his body. "Your Majesty," he began. "They're European. They have the brand. All of them." Brittney's voice caught in her throat. "That's what I thought," she croaked out. "We're trying to knock them out, not kill, so we can take them back for questioning. Unfortunately, it isn't exactly working- Duck!" Robert cut himself off as a dagger made way for her head. It was flying so fast that he couldn't even jump in front of her. Doing the only thing that she could think of, Brittney tossed her head to the side. The dagger snagged the side of her head, fortunately sparing her. It did not, however, spare her wig as it was yanked off, landing on the wall on the other side of the room. Her blond hair tumbled onto her shoulders, falling in messy curls.

"Crap!" Robert yelled as he positioned himself so no weapon would possibly get to her without going through him first. "Hide behind me!" Not seeing any point in revealing her true identity to the rebels, Brittney put her back to Robert's as she crouched down. "Protect the royals! The Selected!" she yelled as she saw their cowering forms narrowly dodging bullets and knives. Fortunately, no one seemed to be hurt. Obeying her command, five guards ran from the fray and stood in a protective semi-circle around the Illéan family.

Brittney winced as she put her hand to the left side of her head, feeling a stinging sensation. It came back with blood staining her fingers. The dagger had grazed her after all, just not enough to kill. She shakily breathed in as the sound of screams and gunshots and death ran through her ears. It had happened to her so many times, but yet it always seemed to freak her out more and more every time. She hated it.

After what seemed like a decade, she finally heard her head guard's voice. "All clear. All clear. Where's the queen?" "I'm here!" she said, standing up and making her way in front of Robert. Her eyes widened as her eyes took in the bloody sight in front of her. She suddenly felt sick, and she covered her mouth with her hand as she desperately tried to hold onto her composure in front of everyone. She was happy to see that most of the bodies were rebels', but there had to be at least twenty of her guards lying on the floor with them.

"How many of you were sent?" she asked, finally finding her voice again. "About fifty, Your Majesty. We've lost twenty-one," Robert replied, answering what would have been her second question. "We await your orders, Your Grace," the head guard –Lucas, she remembered his name – said as he crossed his arms over his chest and bowed.

"Gather all the dead rebels and pile them onto the jet. Take the ones that are alive and tie them up, then leave them here until another jet arrives. Oh, could you order the jet Lucas? I would, but my phone won't be working anytime soon." She gestured to the broken piece of metal lying on the cot. Lucas cracked a small smile. "Of course, Your Majesty." He bowed once more before heading off, giving brief orders to the remaining guards and talking into his ear piece.

That being taken care of, Brittney turned to the royal family and the Selected, sweating in relief when she saw them all being escorted by guards, the worst injury being a deep scratch on the prince's left arm. As he passed by, the king's eyes widened as he whispered, "Come to my study as soon as you are finished here, Your Majesty." Brittney frowned at his mocking and disrespectful tone of voice, but wiped it off her face with a plastered smile and a curt nod. "I don't like the way he spoke to you," Robert whispered. Brittney pursed her lips. "Neither do I."

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The king's study was an ornate room. Green velvet covered most of the furniture and the floor; the only wood used being a dark oak. The king himself blended perfectly into the room. He was stiff and commanding, giving off the same feel as the room did. Well, rooms _were_ designed a certain way for a reason.

Brittney wiped the nervousness of her face and forced a small smile as she made her way over to the royals, all of them wearing a serious expression. Her shoulders were squared, her chin was held high, and she made sure that her hair fell behind her back, giving her a bigger presence. Once in front of the royals, she gave a small curtsy. "Your Majesties. Thank you for seeing me." She lifted her head up to see the king staring daggers at her. "When were you planning on telling us that you were the queen?" he demanded. Brittney was taken aback by his bluntness. He didn't even have the decency to call her "Your Majesty." Not that she liked it when people called her that, but still.

"Clarkson!" the queen whispered warningly. "Keep quiet, Amberly!" Clarkson snapped, effectively cutting off whatever his wife would have said. Once again, Brittney felt her mask start to slip into an expression of disgust, and she purposely left a little trace of it underneath her otherwise now stern expression.

"To answer your question, Your Majesty, I was going to tell you when I decided if I wanted Europe to become allies with your country." Seeing their confused looks, she hurriedly tried to explain. "I came here undercover because I wanted to get a real taste of what Illéa is like, not how people would orchestrate it to me. I know that you have been trying to become allies with us for a few years now, but we never looked into it since we were rather busy with the abolition of the sectors and the death of the royal family, along with the war. We have time now, and I am here to say that I will allow our countries- and continent- to become allies.

"However," she held up a finger, silencing whatever King Clarkson was about to say. "There are some repercussions to becoming allies with me- meaning Europe as a whole. The attack that you just witnessed is nothing compared to what the European rebels will do if they find out that you are our allies without proper protection. They will do whatever it takes to finish off the European monarchy, including killing off all of our suppliers. Your Country could be reduced to ashes before you can send out an S.O.S.

"That's why we need permission to begin construction. We're going to be installing a force field around the palace, along with six or so nuclear-proof safe bunkers in each province. Just in case." She smiled at the shocked faces staring back at her. "Any questions?"

"How long will this whole procedure take?" King Clarkson asked, snapping out of his stupor. "Oh, that depends. Both operations will be going on at the same time, so altogether I'd say anywhere from four to six months. Of course, we could also send in double or triple the men and have it done faster, in three to four months, but that will stall all of our own procedures. You'll have to send in some of your men to help us." She smirked. "So? What will it be?"

"We accept, Your Majesty. Along with triple the men. I want this done as soon as possible." Clarkson said. Brittney nodded. "Agreed, Your Majesty. We will need, however, at least fifty of your men to continue helping us with our current procedures." "Fifty, it is." "Father, we can make it one hundred." All heads turned to Maxon, who had been sitting quietly up until that point. "Maxon?" Clarkson asked dangerously. "We have over two hundred guards in training, all of whom are very capable of doing construction. I sat we select one hundred of them who are willing to do it. I'm sure Queen Brit- uh, Amber will be sending in triple of her own men. It's the least we can do." After sending a glare in his son's way, the king sighed and looked at Brittney. "We'll do a hundred."

"Perfect," she said. "Now I need to get the papers, which are still in my room." She sighed. "I'll go get them. I'll only be a minute." She turned around to see Wilhim standing there with the papers and a pen in his hands. "Oh. Thank you!" She took them and turned back to the royals. "Never mind then," she said cheekily. She saw a small smile pass over the queen's face as she said this, but it quickly disappeared once she glanced at her husband. Brittney was liking this man less and less. "Now, I need you to write your name, your birth certificate number, and then sign on the first line." The king, queen, and prince each took time filling out the form. Maxon seemed very surprised that she wanted his signature, but did it anyway. She wondered why.

"Thank you," she said as the paper was given back to her. She took the pen and signed on the lines where it was needed. "I'll also need an inside look at Illéa's dimensions. Would it be possible to send that to me?" "Yes, yes of course. We'll have it mailed in a few days." Queen Amberly assured. Brittney smiled. "Perfect. I'll have all the details mailed to you in a few days as well. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a jet to catch." "Good-bye, Your Majesty," Clarkson said with a bow. Brittney could tell it was mocking.

Just before leaving the room, she turned back. "I'd like to have you know that I can call off this arrangement if you so anything to displease me, Your Majesty. Respect is a big part of our culture, and should you disrespect me as you are doing now anymore publicly, I will not be pleased. And while I may be young, take these words to heart when I say that you do not want to have me as an enemy." Then she walked out the door.

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The guard was going through that wretched queen's desk, as per the king's orders when he found it. A thick brown folder containing ultrasound photos, a birth certificate and DNA tests. What the information was proving made his blood run cold. He hurriedly made his way to the king's study, knocking hurriedly on the door. "What is it, Officer White?" The king snapped as he opened the door. Officer White gulped as he handed him the folder.

"I think this is something that you'd like to see."

**He He He… I'm evil, I know. That was actually my longest chapter, 3 253, so yay for me! words I'll update as soon as I get 20 reviews. Keep 'em coming!**

**Until next time,**

**HorseGalFangirl9**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys! Guess what? I'm alive! I haven't updated in, like, seven months… so hi! I'm studying for my mid-terms right now, and they start tomorrow so I'm really not supposed to be doing this now, but I want to. I feel really bad that I haven't updated in forever, so I'm giving you this chapter. It's not the best, but it's something! Thank you so much for being patient. There's an important AN at the end of the chapter. Please make sure to read.**

Chapter 7: You're not my daughter

Amber was in her study, filling out paperwork for the Germans when she got the letter. Robert had knocked softly on her door, the sudden noise startling the young queen. "Your Majesty," he called. "I have a letter for you. It's from the Illéan monarchy."

Amber sucked in a breath as she made her way to open the door. They had obviously found the folders she'd left in her room. She could only hope that the reaction was a good one. She smiled softly as Robert handed her the letter, bowing as he did. "Good luck," he whispered. Then he turned and walked away.

Sighing, Amber closed the door and made her way over to her desk. Gently taking her letter opener, she cut through the wax seal and pulled out a single sheet of paper, the faint smell of cologne wafting from it. Stealing herself, she unfolded the paper.

_Your Majesty,_

_I would like to inform you that my guards found some folders in your room when they were clearing it out after your departure, and found the contents to be quite…disturbing, to say the least, all though I'm sure you already know. This is an urgent matter that I would like to discuss with you privately, along with my wife and son. They, too, know of this feat and are not at all amused, and nor am I. When you have the time, I request that you write back and set a date to come back to our country and meet with us. There are many matters that we need to see settled._

_His Royal Highness of Illéa,_

_King Clarkson Schreave_

Amber grimaced as she read the letter, practically feeling the anger and sarcasm that the king had felt while writing it. Then again, she hadn't really expected their reaction to be any better. She had assumed she'd have more time to get the information together and tell them personally, but she had been summoned hastily and left without explanation. She winced again as she thought of her parting words with the king. She really hadn't set herself up well. Taking a deep breath, she got out a blank sheet of paper and started to write.

_Your Majesty,_

_I have received your letter and I, too, agree that we have much to discuss. I am free this Saturday, although I cannot stay long. I have a meeting at 6:00 am the next day and must be back in England before midnight. I do hope this time slot is not taken up by your busy schedule, for I have no other free days in the next two months. Please write as soon as you can; we both need some time to prepare._

_Her Royal Highness of the European Union,_

_Queen Amber Brittney Sutton_

Smirking, Amber took pulled her hand back from the paper before she wrote Schreave at the end of her name. It would do her no good to anger the king any more, and even the fact that she was silently mocking the formalness of his letter was pushing things. With another sigh she folded her paper and put it in an envelope, sealing it with the wax seal of the Union.

She got up and opened the door of her study, smiling at the guards stationed outside her door. "Officers? Would one of you mind taking this to the mail room? It's to be shipped to Illéa, and is of the utmost urgency. Please?"

The officer on her left bowed and took the letter from her. "I would be honored your majesty. It will be delivered to Illéa within the hour." Giving him a nod of acknowledgement, the queen turned back into her study, only to find herself staring into a pair of soft green eyes.

"William!" she exclaimed, putting her hand over her heart. "You startled me." Said man chuckled slightly as his arms found their way around his girlfriend's waist. "That was the point, my love." Pushing the hair back from her face, he stared at her intently. "Have you heard from Illéa yet?"

Sighing, Amber unwrapped herself from her boyfriend's arms. "Yes, I got the letter today. I just wrote back. I'm hoping to get a response tomorrow so I can travel there on Saturday and still have enough time to be back before midnight."

Running his hand through his hair, William walked over to her desk. "I take it he wasn't pleased." "Not in the slightest," Amber replied, shaking her head. "None of them are."

"Hey, don't worry. They'll come to their senses eventually. I mean, you're their daughter. Who wouldn't be proud of that?" Amber smiled slightly at William's words. "I am rather adorable."

Letting out a laugh, William kissed her quickly. "We should get to bed. We have a meeting with the German diplomats tomorrow at 5 o' clock." Letting out a groan, Amber sat on top of her desk. "Why do they schedule these meetings so early. Do they ever sleep?" "I don't think so. I mean, do you see how pale they are?" Leaning close to her, William whispered, as if sharing a secret. "I think they're vampires."

Amber threw back her head, letting loose a laugh. "That does seem probable, doesn't it." Offering her his hand, the soon to be king helped her off the desk and held out his arm dramatically. "Let's go to our chambers shall we?" Giggling, Amber exclaimed, "So we shall!"

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The letter did indeed come the next day, confirming that Amber was to make the trip to Illéa that coming Saturday. As the week rolled by, the young girl began to become increasingly nervous. Every free minute she had caused different scenarios played out in her head, each one seemingly worse than the last. By Friday night she was a bundle of nerves. So much so that she worried William.

"Love, are you okay? You're not acting like yourself." Running a hand through her dirty blonde hair, Amber breathed in deeply. "I'm worried for tomorrow. It's obvious that King Clarkson and I won't see eye to eye, and I fear that he may put the Union in danger because of his resentment towards me." William raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Does that not seem a bit extreme to you?" His girlfriend threw her hands up in the air. "Ugh! I don't know! I have no idea what these people are capable of, and I don't want to make an enemy out of what could become a powerful ally." "And your family," William reminded her gently. "Yes," Amber said, her eyes softening. "There's that, too.

"I just don't want to make a fool out of myself. I've been searching for my birth family ever since I came to the palace, and now that I've found them I don't want to ruin it." She stopped and seemed to think for a second. "Well, not any more than I already have, that is." William sighed and brought her in for a hug. "You won't mess up. I promise you, you won't ruin it." Burying her face into his neck, Amber whispered, "Don't make promises you can't keep."

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She could feel the heat radiating off of the darkened windows as the limousine made it's way through the Illéan royal gates. It was the beginning of September, but still the sun shined bright and heated Amber up from the inside out as it beat down on her from above. Fanning herself, the European queen thanked her maids for putting on waterproof make up. It would surely be running by now if it weren't.

She let out a small gasp as the car door was opened, the warm breeze sending free wisps of hair flying from her up-do. The Illéan guard who had welcomed her to the palace two weeks ago stood there, smiling as her offered her his hand. Smiling, she graciously took it. "Officer White. I'm pleased to once again make your acquaintance." Looking at her from the corner of his eye, the officer led her through the palace doors. "You remember my name? That's funny, since I don't remember it myself sometimes." Amber giggled, hiding her mouth behind her hand. "Oh my! Is the training really that brutal here?"

Officer White shook his head as he let out a small laugh. "There's no need to be so formal Your Majesty. I'm simply a guard. You have not made an audience with the king yet." Sighing, Amber relented. "I'm well aware. I'm afraid that it's simply a product of my education."

As they made their way up the stairs, the queen took notice of a certain redhead crossing their path. "Hello, Lady America," she greeted. Catching sight of her, said girl dropped into a sloppy curtsy. "Your Majesty." Amber let out a breathy laugh, waving slightly as she was led up to the third floor.

At the top of the stairs, none other than Prince Maxon stood waiting. He smiled as the pair made their way up the stairs. Officer White gave Amber's hand to the prince, then bowing and stepping back.

"Hello Your Majesty," the prince greeted. The seventeen-year-old sighed as they made their way to the king's study. "You know better than to call me that, Prince Maxon. The current circumstances don't call for much formality towards me."

Maxon shook his head. "I suppose they don't." The siblings walked the rest of the way in silence, awkwardness filling the empty space between them. Amber desperately wanted to say something, anything, but she just couldn't muster up the courage. As they stood in front of the grand oak doors of the king's study, Maxon gave her a reassuring smile. He opened the doors, leading her through. Before she entered, Amber saw Robert and Wilhim stand guard at the other end of the hallway.

The doors shut behind her, and the queen of Europe found herself looking at the king and queen of Illéa. Her parents. Both of their expressions were unreadable, although she saw traces of warmness in Queen Amberly's eyes. She then looked at Maxon, who had a small smile on his face. Maybe this wasn't hopeless after all.

"Your Majesties," Amber said, dropping into a practiced curtsy. She winced as her corset rubbed up against her sides. She quickly straightened up and gave a fake smile, wiping imaginary dust of her dress. "It's a pleasure to have made your acquaintance today. Thank you for having me." "It's our pleasure, dear," Queen Amberly said, a mix of emotions showing on her face. "Please, take a seat." Amber nodded once and accepted the seat that Maxon pulled out for her. Mentally preparing herself, she turned towards King Clarkson, meeting his cold expression.

"Your Majesty," he said flatly. "It seems that we have a lot to discuss."

**Haha, sorry about the cliffhanger. I have to end it though, it's getting late and I still have to study.**

**So, it seems as though I've lost my USB key, and I can't edit my chapters. So, basically they all suck and there are some elements that have changed. Amber had dirty blond hair, not platinum blonde and the maids that helped her when she first came to Illéa were her own maids from her palace. She is not married to William, she is just her boyfriend, but due to some paperwork they signed he is considered king, though Amber and the council can dismiss him at any time. **

**Again, I'm sorry for making this really crappy and confusing but I can't edit without starting over. **

**Don't forget to review!**

**Until next time,**

**HorseGalFangirl9**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys! I realize now that I really don't have any time or motivation for fanfiction anymore, so my updates are super slow. If you still stick with me after all this crap, thank you so much. I try to put out good quality material, however, so I hope that kinda compensates for my freakishly long update times. I love you all so much, and I'm so sorry. Anyway, please enjoy this long- awaited chapter.**

Chapter 8: Stabbed in the back

When she was fifteen, Amber remembered going to her first council meeting. She remembered the way everyone looked at her with piercing stares, judging her every move. Sometimes it seemed as if they expected her to make a mistake. Other times it seemed as if they wanted her to. Whether it was so they could have an excuse to get her off the throne, or just so they could go off on her for their sheer amusement, she never knew. All she knew was that it made her sick.

She remembered the raw panic that she'd felt, the way her heart beat way too fast, how her head was spinning and how she felt like the fear was going to swallow her up. What she remembered the most vividly, however, was the horrible feeling of utter helplessness.

She hadn't felt like that since then; as she got older she became more experienced, gathered acquaintances, and made friends to stay by her side. In fact, she'd sworn that she'd never feel like that again. Goes to show that her sense of judgment could use some fine-tuning.

King Clarkson's glare was getting her a lot more nervous than she wished it would. It wasn't the way he was glaring at her- Amber knew her own glare could rival anyone's ten times over. If she wanted to she could give anyone a piercing glare, put on her "queen facade" and they would do anything she asked. Well, most people would. The German Federation were impossible and she doubted that King Clarkson would listen to her no matter how "queenly" she seemed. She was only seventeen, and from the brief conversations they'd had Amber could tell she didn't value the same things as he, and she got the sense that he would not tolerate her. All that said, Amber knew that she could stand her ground if it came to it.

So no, it wasn't his stare or his confrontational demeanor that was getting her nervous. It was the fact that he was her father, and that her mother and brother were standing right behind him. They were her family, and they hadn't even known she'd existed until a few days ago. She already got the gist that her father was not her biggest fan, but his wife and son hadn't shown any emotion towards her yet. Did they like her? Did they hate her? Were they going to give her a chance? She didn't know, and that scared her more than anything.

"It seems we have a lot to discuss," King Clarkson sneered.

"So it would." Amber breathed out, trying not to let her voice shake. She couldn't muster up the courage to stare the king in the face, so she took to observing his office instead. It was big, perhaps not quite as large as her own back in the palace in England, but still a decent size. The walls were tall and painted a deep shade of mahogany with giant windows on the far right side, though they did little to let in light. They were easels with maps of Illéa set up everywhere along with many other work-related documents, but no personal pictures. The desk they were currently sitting at was large, also made of mahogany. There were papers and letters piled up all around it, along with a letter-opening dagger perched precariously at the edge. All in all it was a very dark and uninviting sort of office that Amber decided was fitting for the king's dashing personality.

Reverting her gaze,she watched as King Clarkson reached into a drawer under his desk and took out a file, slamming it in front of her. Involuntarily, Amber flinched.

"This," the king started. "What were you thinking when you left us _this_?"

"That? I would imagine it be very clear, Your Majesty. I was searching for proof. I've been trying to find my birth family for quite a while. When my tests showed results that matched up with the Illéan royals, I decided to do a little, shall we say, research of my own." As the words came out of her mouth, Amber resisted the urge to flinch again as she realized how rude she sounded. _You sound like a brat Amber_, she chastised herself. _Be polite._

King Clarkson raised an eyebrow. "Research? Well, that must be selective opinion, because I don't see it as research. I see it as theft."

"Theft?" Now it was Amber's turn to raise an eyebrow. "With all due respect Your Majesty, I recall theft being an act of stealing. I wasn't stealing, simply gathering and photocopying documents for proof. Keep them if it would make you feel better, " she made a surrendering motion with her hands. "I don't want to take them. I was never going to, anyway."

She watched the king's face darken. "I hope you're aware of how very lucky you are that we don't bring this to court."

Amber felt her face contort, and hurried to put on expressionless mask back on before the royal family saw her look of shock and disgust.

"Court? This was going to be-" Amber cut herself off with a little cough. "Very well. Thank you for your consideration, Majesty."

Queen Amberly sighed, the first thing Amber had ever seen her do other than quietly stand at her husband's side. "Dear, we're getting off topic. Theft doesn't matter, especially not now. We need to get to the more pressing matter at hand."

The king's expression became unreadable, and it took a few moments before he answered with a slightly strained "Of course." Clearing his throat, he straightened his back and opened up the file, spreading its contents so that birth documents, ultrasounds, progression records and medical records were clearly seen. The king opened his mouth as if to speak, but he closed it a moment after, as if debating what to say. Seeing her husband's hesitation, Queen Amberly proceeded to speak for him in a soft, gentle voice, not moving from her place behind his chair.

"This information that you have gathered here, Queen Amber, is not information that can be taken lightly. We do not fully understand what it is you hoped to accomplish by finding and leaving us these papers, but we certainly cannot just go out and announce it to the public. It carries great weight. Given, I would imagine plenty more tests would have to be run before it can be confirmed that you are-" she broke off, clearing her throat. "Excuse me, my dear." she seemed to gather herself before continuing. "More tests would have to be run in order to confirm that you do have blood relations with Illéa." There seemed to be a pained look on her face.

The king gave his wife a tight smile before before turning back to Amber. "Did you understand that, Your Majesty? Or must I put it in simpler words for you?"

Amber felt an angry flush rise to her cheeks, but she fought to keep it neutral. "No, all is understood Your Majesties. Although I do feel the need to inform you that I was well aware of this before I came to Illéa. Um, the limits and conditions, I mean." She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "I am a royal. I believe that preliminary knowledge of such affairs is required, do you not agree?

"Of course," Maxon answered, speaking for the first time. Amber jumped a bit when he spoke, having forgotten he was there. "But I think you're missing the point. What my parents are trying to get at is that you might not fully understand what this information means in its entirety."

That was the absolute wrong thing to say. Amber's expression darkened, her shoulders becoming ramrod straight and her face going blank. When she spoke, her words were laced with a dangerous undertone. "What is it that you're implying Prince Maxon? Because it sounds like you're telling me that I'm not intelligent enough to understand what I'm doing."

Maxon spluttered, his expression becoming one of horror. "No! Not at all! I was just- I mean- that's _not_ what I was implying!"

"Really?" Amber's eyebrow shot up again. "Then what exactly _were_ you implying?" Her steel gaze leveled with Maxon's panicked one, and then with the queen's disapproving one.

"With respectful regards Queen Amber, it would be much appreciated if you stopped harassing my son," Queen Amberly said, her beautiful face distorted into a frown.

"Harassing your son? I don't-" Amber stopped herself again, breathing in as she dug her nails into her palm. "Of course. My apologies Your Majesties, Highness. She wasn't really sure if she wanted them to hear the sarcasm in laced into her words or not.

"apology accepted. Although I so think that Maxon should have handled himself better." King Clarkson craned his neck so he could glare at his son. "I'll be expecting you to stay with me when this meeting is over so we can have a talk, Maxon."

"Of course Father," Maxon answered. Amber's brows furrowed as she took in Maxon's slightly fearful expression. Was he scared of his father? Before she had the time to ponder the matter, the king's voice snapped her back to attention.

"Now, I'm afraid we've gotten off topic again. Forgive me for being rude, but I really do not wish to discuss this with you any longer. I'll do us all a favor and cut to the chase; we don't want to validate this information."

Amber's throat tightened. She had prepared herself for rejection, but she hadn't imagined that it would be quite so blunt. _Say something Amber! _She screamed at herself when she realized she hadn't responded.

"Understandable," she said, surprising herself when she heard how even her voice was. "I am aware of how troublesome announcing such news could be. It's completely acceptable." She stood up out of her chair and made her way over to shake the royal family's hands.

"Clarkson,"Queen Amberly started. "Maybe we should-"

"Quiet, Amberly!" King Clarkson shouted. Maxon's expression went hard, and the queen recoiled slightly, head bowed. Amber yanked her hand away from the king's, eyes flashing. She weighed the words she wanted to say on her tongue, and decided that if she didn't speak now no one would.

"Forgive my bluntness Your Majesty, but is that the way you usually speak to your wife?" Amber held her breath as the king spluttered indignantly, his face going red. "What did you just ask me?" he managed to get out.

Amber gulped. _God, I should have kept my mouth closed. _Why_ didn't I keep my mouth closed?_

"I'm sure you heard me Your Majesty. But don't take offense, I'm simply wondering. I'm not entirely sure how it works in Illéa, but under my reign it's looked down upon to speak to your wife as if she's a dog."

The room went deadly silent. _Goddamit! Shut up, you're going to get yourself killed. _She could only stare at the King's reddening face. _What the hell are you waiting for? Get out of there!_

Finally in control of her body, the young queen backed up slowly towards the door, fumbling blindly for the knob. Before she could turn it, King Clarkson stepped forward, grabbed her arm and pulled her back into the center of the room.

"You have some nerve if you think you can come under my roof and insult me like that." His voice was deadly calm, which was quite a ways worse then if he had screamed. She knew from her own bursts of rage that talking calmly meant one was either too angry to muster up the energy to yell, or so upset they forgot how.

"You're hurting me," Amber managed to get out, feeling the blood stop running to her arm where the king was grabbing her.

"Oh am I? And what are you going to do about it?" The grim smile of satisfaction on King Clarkson's face was enough to get Amber's blood boiling. It wasn't so much his words than the fact that he was hurting her- and enjoying it- that was getting her royally pissed of. She could deal with taunting words, but _no one _touched her without her consent. Not since _he..._

"Let me go!" She demanded, stopping the painful train of thought.

"Father, you're hurting her. Stop!" she heard Maxon scream from behind her. Twisting her head around, she saw that his face was ashen, and the his mother stood beside him with a slightly panicked expression on her face.

"Clarkson, stop it!" she said, moving towards her husband.

"Stay back, Amberly! Do _not_ intervene with my affairs, how many times have I told you? Get your blasted son out of here and go with him. This girl," he nodded his head towards Amber, "needs to be taught a lesson."

_No way._ Amber flashed back to the last time she's heard those words, and instantly panicked. She remembered it all: his hands touching her, his breath on her neck, the taunting words, the _pain._ Her reflexes kicked in, and before she could register what she was doing, her knee had shot up and hit the king in his royal jewels (and not the ones on his crown.)

He yowled in pain and pushed Amber away form him and onto his desk. She barely had time to register that there was a dagger on the edge before her back was pierced in a flame of pain. "Ah!" Holding back tears, she reached to touch her back and her hand came back stained with blood, red streaks staining her ivory skin. The doors of the office were thrown open, and both Illéan and European guards came rushing in, no doubt hearing the cries of pain that King Clarkson and Queen Amber were letting out.

"Is everything alright Your Majesty? We heard screaming," one of the Illéan guards said, running into the room and towards the royal family. The other one followed suit, glancing around the room.

"Get her out!" King Clarkson roared to the guards, pointing in Amber's general direction where she was still hunched over on the desk. They started towards her, but Wilhim and Robert beat them to it.

"Are you okay Queen Amber? You seem like you're in pain. What happened?"

"My back," Amber chocked out. "there's a dagger in my back."

A dagger in your-" Wilhim cut himself off as he moved her slightly so that her back was exposed. "My God, how did that happen?"

"They stabbed her!" Robert shouted. The king's eyes widened as the queen covered her mouth with her hands, horror brimming in her eyes. Maxon and the Illéan guards stood frozen, not quite sure what to do.

"No, they didn't. I just-" Amber was unable to finish her sentence as she felt the dagger move, a flash of white hot pain clouding her mind and vision. "You know what? It doesn't matter. Just get it out!"

Nodding in understanding, her guards had her place her stomach against the desk as they began to extract the dagger. Thankfully it was quite small, so it didn't pose as a big problem.

"Are you sure you should be doing that?" one of the Illéan guards asked. "Take her to the infirmary."

"We have medical licenses, Officer Chen." Robert retorted. "Besides, I don't particularly trust the person who runs the medical staff here."

"Robert," Amber growled a warning under her breath, her knuckles turning white from gripping the desk do hard.

"Now see here!" Officer Chen started, but he was interrupted by the European Queen's cries of pain as the dagger was pulled out of her back.

"Sorry, I'm sorry My Queen," Wilhim whispered as he grabbed his and Robert's handkerchiefs and presses them to the wound, now rapidlygushing blood.

Grunting, Amber stood up. She leaned on her guards for support as the flashes of pain threatened to send her crashing to the floor. Still, she took a deep breath, tried to ignore the pain, and prepared herself for what she had to say next. "I think, given all that has happened here, that the plans for an valiance between Illéa and the European Union be canceled." She paused a moment to let the information sink in. (She also used the time to swallow the bile in her throat. The pain was making her horribly nauseous, but of course, she'd never admit it.) "It would be a tremendous amount of work on both our parts, and I don't want to waist my time on someone who cannot even address me by my title."

Despite her best efforts, amber let out a hiss of pain as she shifted her weight from one side to the other. She gave herself a moment to let the dizziness fade before continuing. "Of course, the force field construction will continue. I can't very well cancel it now when everything is already ordered and in place. God knows, even without any alliance or direct contact between us, just the fact that I have been here may be enough to provoke an attack." Amber shook her head, sighing. "It will be a lot less work for both of us if the force field stands to protect the palace and the bunkers to protect the population."

"And what is it that you're implying Your Majesty? That I cannot protect my country?" King Clarkson mocked the words that she'd said before.

"Yes," Amber smirked. "You are helpless against the European rebels, and we've gotten reports that they've already joined forces with your Southern rebels. That attack that happened a few days ago? That was _nothing _compared to what they can do. Unless your military has the means to stand against constant bombings, attacks on all your provinces and mass murders, I feel very strongly that you will need the Union's resources to ensure that your country isn't a smoking mass of rubble by the time they're done with you."

She was met with three expressionless faces. Seeing it as an opening to make her escape, Amber gave them all a half-curtsy and let Wilhim and Robert lead her to the door. She was about to turn down the hallway when she seemed to remember something and stopped, reaching around to take off a necklace she was wearing, hidden under her clothes.

"I forgot, I have something that belongs to you Your Majesties." Walking slowly she met Queen Amberly at the door frame and pressed the necklace into her palm, the gold initial "A" glimmering slightly in the dim light. When she spoke, the first hints of vulnerability crept their way into Amber's words. "I- I've had it since I was a baby. But I... I don't have much use for it now." She gave a small laugh. "Maybe Prince Maxon can give it to whomever he chooses as his wife. He can change the charm if needed." The last sentence seemed to be an afterthought.

"Thank you," Queen Amberly whispered, wrapping the necklace firmly in her palm. Amber gave her a small smile at let her guards lead her to the waiting limousine outside. As she walked away she couldn't decide what hurt more; the wound on her back or the one on her heart.

**Tell me how you feel about this chapter. Do you like Amber? What about the king? Please review or PM me and tell me what you thought. I'm always looking for ways to make my writing better.**

**Until next time,**

**HorseGalFangirl9**


	9. AN

**Hey guys! I don't have any new chapters ready because I'm working on making the old ones better because I just re read them and **_**eesh**_**. Anyway, I already updated chapter one ans I highly recommend you re-read it. I'll be seeing y'all soon.**

**Until next time,**

**HorseGalFangirl9**


	10. AN 2

**Just another AN: Chapters 2 and 3 are corrected. Go re-read. Everything might be kinda confusing if you don't.**


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